


Catastrophe

by tveckling



Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Marriage Proposal, unplanned marriage proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 14:11:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14380308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tveckling/pseuds/tveckling
Summary: ‘Things you said when you asked me to marry you’





	Catastrophe

Tybalt cursed as Mercutio danced out of his grip, cackling madly. “Come back here, you bastard!”

“Tybalt, Tybalt. Would our dear Juliet condone that sort of language?” Mercutio clucked his tongue and blew a kiss before once again avoiding Tybalt’s hands—it was made easier by how Tybalt’s face was still mostly covered in flour, making it harder for him to see.

Not only Tybalt was covered in flour, though. The whole kitchen was white, a clear picture of a prank gone horribly right. Only Mercutio, who was the mastermind behind it and had been coincidentally waiting out of range, was clean, but Tybalt was dead set on fixing that.

That damn fool had taken pictures. 

“Mercutio, I swear to you, if you share those pictures-”

“Hmm, what? I’m a little busy, love. Trying to find Jules’ number,” Mercutio called, phone visible in his hand as he pretended he wasn’t being chased around their apartment. Neither of them paid any mind to the flour that came off Tybalt and on the furniture and floor.

“Drop that phone!”

Tybalt looked around desperately and grabbed the first thing he saw: the remote control that Mercutio always left in the weirdest places, now in the key bowl. Not as bad as when Tybalt had searched for two hours and then found it when he gave up and went to grab some ice cream from the freezer as consolation. The madman wasn’t even aware he did it.

If there was one thing Tybalt was proud of it was his eyes, and he had always had good aim. So when he threw the remote he was only gratified to see it hit Mercutio’s shoulder, making his arm jerk violently. The phone flew from his hand, both men watching as it sailed through the air and hit the wall, then fell to the floor.

“No!” Mercutio yelled and threw himself after his phone, but Tybalt was already moving. They collided with a thud, Tybalt pushing Mercutio down on the floor beneath him while Mercutio struggled and tried to wiggle loose.

“You give up on that thing right now or else!” Tybalt growled, one of his arms around Mercutio’s neck holding him back, but Mercutio only laughed.

“Or what?”

Tybalt narrowed his eyes and rubbed his hand, white and full of flour, all over Mercutio’s face. Then, as Mercutio protested, he pushed Mercutio’s face into the floor and reached out as far as he could. By the time Mercutio had managed to clear the flour from his eyes Tybalt had his phone in hand, holding it up victoriously.

“You break my phone, I break your most precious thing,” Mercutio said, with the kind of solemnity that Tybalt knew he was dead serious.

“I’m not going to break it,” Tybalt replied with a grimace. “I’m just going to delete the pictures.”

Mercutio rolled his eyes and pushed at Tybalt until he moved away, just enough so Mercutio could turn and lie on his back instead. “I suppose that means you know my password then,” he drawled, “since the phone is either shut off or locked. And since I’m not stupid I have it password protected.”

Pressing the screen proved Mercutio right, and Tybalt let his head fall onto Mercutio’s shoulder with a groan. Even though he chuckled Mercutio’s hand was gentle as he patted Tybalt’s head. When his other hand pulled at the phone, however, Tybalt acknowledged his loss and let him take it.

“Don’t be so paranoid,” Mercutio said with a snort. “I’m not going to send any photos to anyone. You think I want someone else to see you look so helpless and adorable? Never. You’re mine, and only mine.”

Tybalt shook his head, but he did press his face harder against Mercutio’s shoulder, or else his smile would be visible.

“You know you’re messing up my clothes, right? They’ll be hell to clean.”

Tybalt could hear the sneer in Mercutio’s voice, and that made him chuckle for real and raise his head with a smirk. “If you think your clothes are messed up you shouldn’t look in a mirror.”

Mercutio gasped loudly. “How dare you! Tybalt Capulet, are you calling my face a mess?”

“Only a little.” Tybalt smirked and rubbed his hand on Mercutio’s cheek, smudging the flour even more. “There. Now it’s a big mess.”

“Oh, you have ruined my face. Who will ever love me now?” Mercutio closed his eyes and let his head fall to the floor, a hand dramatically pressed against his forehead.

“I will.”

As soon as the words came out of his mouth Tybalt froze, feeling his eyes widen as Mercutio’s flew open. They both stared at each other in silence, as second as second passed by, each eternally long. Thoughts were flying through Tybalt’s head, faster than he could register them, and all he could really focus on was the unguarded, surprised, scared but also hopeful look on Mercutio’s face.

Without actually thinking Tybalt knew what to do, what to say. His voice was hoarse when he spoke, but he paid it no mind. If he hesitated he might not be able to do it.

“I will,” he repeated. “For the rest of my life. I have loved you for almost two decades now, and I can’t ever imagine myself stopping.”

“Tybalt… are you-” Mercutio frowned, his breath coming slightly faster than before. “Are you proposing?”

“I suppose,” Tybalt said slowly, turning Mercutio’s words over in his head. Proposing. It meant marriage, life long commitment, sharing his life. It felt so strange, but it also felt right. He wanted Mercutio in his life, from that day until he died. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

Mercutio was silent, his gaze sharp as he scrutinized Tybalt. A pit was forming in Tybalt'a stomach as he remembered. Mercutio saw love as a joke, and marriage was something he scoffed at. He had used pet names on Tybalt, all sorts of loving nicknames, but as the seconds passed by Tybalt just had to remember that they had never actually professed love for one another. And now not only had Tybalt done just that, he had also proposed—to a man who believed neither in love nor marriage.

Suddenly it was hard to breathe.

“Tybalt.”

Mercutio’s hand on his cheek brought Tybalt back to the present, and he found himself facing a Mercutio who looked more worried than Tybalt could ever remember him being.

“I told you already not to be so paranoid, and then you go and ignore my words? That’s not the best start of a relationship, is it?” Shaking his head, frown easing as Tybalt listened attentively, Mercutio looked up at the ceiling. “I suppose you’ll have many years to fix the mistake.”

Tybalt blinked, not quite sure if he had heard correct. “Does that mean-”

“Yes.”

Mercutio still didn’t look at him, but that was only good as he couldn’t see the embarrassing smile that lit up Tybalt’s face. Filled with feelings he couldn’t, and didn’t want to, describe Tybalt leaned down and kissed Mercutio. Once, softly, just closed lips against closed lips. Then again, longer and harder, with more heat, tongue pressing past lips. And again, and again.

When they broke apart, gasping for air, Tybalt couldn’t resist bending forward and tugging at Mercutio’s kiss-swollen lip. There was a feeling in his chest, like he could do anything. He wondered if that was what pure happiness felt like. “You know?” he murmured.

Mercutio hummed a questioning sound in response, hands resting easily on Tybalt’s hips as he watched Tybalt’s face with hooded eyes.

“You’re still going to have to clean all this up. You made the mess, you clean it up.”

“Wait, what? No, no way. Tybalt!”

Tybalt snorted and laid his head on Mercutio’s shoulder again, letting Mercutio’s protests wash over him. He knew already that he’d give in and help Mercutio—his fiancé, god, it was real—clean up later, but he could well let Mercutio believe otherwise for a while. For now he just listened to Mercutio’s voice and felt the warm glow grow within his chest.


End file.
